In the Line of Duty pt 2
by paintedinred
Summary: September, 2138. After weeks of no news of the happenings back in Somalia, Washington has a visitor to the military hospital.


**So it's Wednesday, 2/15, and as promised here is part two! I don't believe there will be a part three, but I don't know, I guess there's always a chance! Reading part one isn't necessary to understand/enjoy this story, but they definitely do go better together. More kudos to my beta, Kaycie, and... As always, reviews are very much appreciated! So yes, I'd love to hear what people think about this story! (And part one, and like... how they go together and whatnot.) Thanks, enjoy! **

IN THE LINE OF DUTY 2

Lieutenant Washington was woken up by that familiar nurse pushing her cart into her hospital room, the same big, fake smile on her face. She held out the standard breakfast tray, which Wash accepted with a soft murmer of thanks.

The nurse clasped her hands together. "Well, how are you feeling today, Lieutenant?"

The woman smiled slightly in a halfhearted attempt to make her go away. "I'm fine, thanks." She placed the tray on her lap and slowly sat up, ignoring the pain of her semi-healed wounds and the look that the nurse gave her. They both knew that Wash wasn't supposed to be sitting up on her own, for risk of opening herself up again. They also both knew that she didn't care what the nurses said, for they had already both had their share of arguments about on the subject.

Washington picked up her fork and poked at her food. She had been in her share of military hospitals, and one thing that was always fairly standard was the poor quality of the meals. With a small amount of dread, the woman began to eat it. When she had first arrived at the hospital she hadn't eaten an amount that the doctors and nurses' were satisfied with, out of a mild annoyance at being there in the first place, and also of worry for her unit (and Taylor) back in Somalia. But after the hospital workers had begun pestering her about it, she had decided that if eating was what it took to get the them to leave her alone, she'd do it.

The nurse was still smiling. "Can I get you anything, Lieutenant?"

Wash looked up at the question and nodded, pausing to swallow her food. "Yea. When can I leave?"

They both knew it was standard procedure for nurses to leave those type of questions for the doctors, but that didn't stop the woman from asking every chance she got. The two stared at each other for several moments, and finally the nurse looked away. Still smiling, she nodded her head in a silent goodbye and left the room with her breakfast cart.

Triumphant at successfully getting the nurse to leave, Washington turned her attention back to her food. She took a few more bites before her mind began to wander.

It had been several weeks since the woman had been airlifted from her unit's position in the heart of the Somalian desert. A small group of soldiers, including herself and her commander, Nathaniel Taylor, had been patrolling the perimeter of their camp when a Somalian grenade had exploded. Washington had pushed the Commander out of range, but had been severely injured in the blast. She was very proud of that fact - that nobody else in their patrol had been injured.

A small group of Somalians had attacked, and after the soldiers had driven them off Taylor had carried her back to camp. A medevac helicopter had arrived, and just before she had been airlifted to the hospital she was currently residing in, a soldier had run up to the two with horrible news: the Somalians had broken into the camp. They had been driven off, but Ayani and Lucas Taylor, the Commander's family, were missing.

And that was the last time that Lieutenant Washington had known what was happening with her unit. It didn't come as a surprise; the military was strictly need-to-know, and on top of that their mission was of the utmost importance. Top secret. Even though she was a Lieutenant under Commander Taylor, Wash was still told nothing. The woman had expected it, but it was extremely frustrating - she didn't even know if everybody in her unit was okay.

She also had know way of knowing if Taylor had succeeded in finding his family, although she had a feeling that he had. The Taylors knew better than to miss a roll-call, especially in an emergency such as that one, so Washington was fairly sure that somebody (most likely the Somalians) had taken them. Then again, in the weeks she had spent in this hospital she had come up with what seemed like hundreds of possibilities. She _hated _not knowing.

Wash was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the door to her room opening. She quickly swallowed whatever food she had been absentmindedly chewing on, and looked up.

Commander Nathaniel Taylor was right there. Standing in the doorway. It took her a few seconds to register that it was actually him, that he was actually there in the hospital.

"Wash."

She knew that she shouldn't stand in her current condition, but her years of training as a soldier were yelling at her to stand at attention. The woman compromised; she pushed the tray off of her lap and straightened her back so that her intention was obvious.

"Sir."

He nodded wordlessly, and Washington relaxed again. The two stared at each other, barely moving, each one assessing the other. Try as she might, even though Washington had known Taylor for years she couldn't read anything into what he was thinking (usually she could at least deduce _something_). He was deliberately hiding something from her.

Washington finally glanced over at the visitors chair that had been empty for the duration of her stay at the hospital, effectively asking her commander to sit. She studied him as he walked over and sat down heavily. From the moment he had walked in she had had a feeling that something was wrong, and now she was certain. Whatever the reason was that he had come to the hospital, had left the unit, it was something bad. For the first time in a long time, the woman was nervous.

Taylor's head was resting on his hand, and he was stroking his chin, deep in thought. His eyes were directed at the wall on the other side of the Lieutenant, but they were racing and unfocused.

Washington watched him for a moment before she spoke, mirroring their conversation on the day she had been injured. "Did you have breakfast?" She paused, and then added, "sir."

That seemed to pull Taylor from his own head. He blinked a few times, focusing on Wash. He slowly shook his head. "No, I did not."

The woman looked down, pulling her tray close again. She stared at the contents for a few moments, before choosing the thing that looked the most appetizing: coincidentally, an energy bar. She picked it up and held it out. Taylor took the bar, but held it in his lap and didn't eat it. His eyes were racing again.

Washington watched him for a moment, before returning her attention to her tray. She took another bite of food, glancing back over at her commander. He still wasn't talking. She knew better than to ask what was wrong, though; one thing Taylor hated was people pestering him, _especially _when he was thinking.

She sat there for a few moments, looking down at her food, searching desparately for something to talk about. Then it suddenly came to her. Without looking up from her tray, Wash spoke. "I'm sorry I didn't get my report to you, sir. It's right there," she motioned to a medical tray at the end of her bed, "but they wouldn't let me send it to you."

Taylor's eyes focused again, and he glanced over at the tray in question. He saw the folder but shook his head, waving his hand dismissively at it. His meaning was clear: that wasn't what he had come for.

Washington's eyes narrowed very slightly as she watched Taylor; she was completely focused on him. She had a feeling that he was about to explain and wanted to make sure she didn't miss anything.

The Commander slowly shifted so he was leaning forward, elbows resting heavily on his knees. He clasped and unclasped his hands several times, staring at them, trying again to figure out how to word whatever he had to say.

He finally spoke, but he didn't look up from his hands. "Ayani's dead."

Washington's eyes widened. It took several moments for those words to sink in. Ayani Taylor was dead? It couldn't be true... But she knew that there was no way Taylor would ever joke or assume something like that. The woman was careful not to make a sound for fear of reacting wrong. Silence was the only safety.

There was a long pause, and then Taylor spoke again. "The bastards knew exactly what they were doing. Where to go. There was a struggle. The tent was a mess." Pause. "They wanted me to follow them. They didn't even try to cover their tracks. I didn't care though. All I wanted was to get my family back."

The Commander glanced up briefly at Washington before looking back down at his hands. "They were on rovers and I was on foot so it took me a few days to catch up to them. At their camp. They knew I was coming. When I reached it they were out front, and Lucas and Ayani were at gunpoint."

He glanced up again, and for the first time in Wash's life she saw tears in his eyes, threatening to fall. "They made me _choose_, Wash. Choose which one would live and which one would die." He trailed off, eyes briefly unfocusing. Washington was hurting seeing her commander like this. She knew he was reliving the events, but there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. Nothing would fix this.

"So I chose Ayani." His voice cracked, but he didn't seem to notice. He looked back down at his hands. "It's what she would have wanted._ It's what she would have wanted_," he repeated softly to himself before continuing. "They made me watch before they would give me Lucas. And they took their time. Hurt her. Touched her." Another pause. "They wouldn't even give me her body." A tear slowly fell down Taylor's cheek. He made no move to brush it away. "So she's dead. They made Lucas watch too. He won't even look at me. He doesn't talk. He hates me. My wife is dead and my son hates me." He trailed off again, and then bowed his head.

Washington had tears rolling down her face. She still didn't say anything, knowing that that was the response her commander needed. He just wanted somebody to listen, keep a secret and not judge him for his decision. The woman didn't know what she would have done if placed in the same situation, but she wasn't supposed to know. She was just supposed to sit there with Taylor and provide him the support he needed.

They sat there in silence. Wash reached up and wiped her tear-stains away with the palm of her hand. She knew that, no matter how much she wanted to hold the Commander's hand and comfort him, he was her commanding officer first. And what he needed, anyway, was time.

They sat in silence for forever. Eventually Taylor sat up. He was finally able to look Wash in the eye for more than a second. "Anyway, I just came to bring you your gun." He got to his feet and walked over to the door, where he had dropped a standard-issue army pack upon entering. The man unzipped it and, after a moment of rummaging, returned to the bed with Washington's gun and holster in his hand.

She accepted it gratefully, glancing up at Taylor with a faint smile. "Don't tell the nurses I have it, sir. I have a feeling they'll take it and I won't see it until I get out." She inspected the weapon briefly, before checking to make sure the safety was on and shoving it under her pillow.

The Commander remained standing, crossing his arms loosely. "I spoke to one of the doctors about that. He said that you'll be out of here in two weeks tops."

Washington nodded abruptly. She was inwardly triumphant that she finally had an answer, but made sure to keep her face neutral. "Sir."

"Why are they making you heal it out naturally?" Taylor asked.

The Lieutenant shrugged. She realized that she still had the tray on her lap and pushed it away. "They said that since I wasn't in danger of dying or an amputation that they needed to allocate their supplies for other things. I don't mind, sir," she shook her head quickly, sensing that Taylor was about to offer to make them change their minds. "I don't even feel it anymore."

The man nodded slowly, and moved toward the door, picking up his pack as he reached it. "Alright. I'll see you in two weeks, Lieutenant."

Washington nodded, sitting up straight again. "Sir."

He stopped in the doorway. "And Wash..."

"Sir?"

He smiled slightly. "I'm glad you're okay."


End file.
